


Vulnerable

by Canadiantardis



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aftermath of Violence, Are patton and virgil dating? Who knows, Both remy and emile are doctors but different kinds of doctors, Everyone else at least speaks a bit, For the second part at least, Gen, Hero Patton, Heroes & Heroines, Hinting of Moxiety, Hurt/Comfort, I somehow got the fahc in this fic and i dont know how, Identity Reveal, Minor Character Death, Revenge, Roman is only mentioned, Secret Identity, Sorta but Patton doesn't do the revenge it's Deceit, They won't tell me, They're really vigilantes but the media calls them villains, Two Shot, Villain Deceit, Villain Virgil, Villains, Violence, the second part is darker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-12-24 13:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadiantardis/pseuds/Canadiantardis
Summary: Virgil did not expect his morning to start out like this.Based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr a long time ago. I've been wanting to write this for a while~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The [ Prompt](https://one-lonely-whumperfly.tumblr.com/post/179549370724/the-hero-shows-up-at-the-villains-doorstep-one) that inspired the story!  
(I might do the opposite where Villain!Virgil goes to Hero!Patton later, let me know if yall would want to read that~)

Virgil had been walking to work when he saw him by the gates. He almost groaned, _it was too early, and they haven't even done anything "wicked" yet to have the city's hero ready to fight them in front of their Lair!_

It wasn't until he got closer to the entrance and the hero that he saw something was very, _ very _ wrong. Bright, sky blue spandex ripped in several places from the arms and legs to a large one across his back, and where Virgil would normally see flesh under the suit, was blood. His hair was even wilder than normal, sticking up at all angles and matted in places. From the angle his head was turned, Virgil noticed his face was lacking the usual glasses.

Then the hero turned his head minutely to face whoever was approaching, and the haunted look terrified Virgil more than anything in the world.

Tear-tracks, wild eyes, bruises. _ So many bruises. What the hell happened??? _

Virgil hurried over to the hero, who collapsed into his arms once he was within reach. It was as if all his strength left him, and he was only a regular citizen. He was no longer Morality, but… whoever his alias was.

"I... I didn't know where else to go." His voice was ragged, hoarse, as if he had been screaming or crying for hours. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and Virgil struggled to keep them both from falling over.

_ What the fuck happened?!? _

Virgil had a time maneuvering the unconscious hero – not wanting to aggravate any wounds – until he finally held him close and brought him into the building, searching for his partner. _ Dee would know what to do. _

“Dee!” He shouted once the door shut behind them with a distinct _ click! _

He half-dragged, half-carried the hero further into the building until he heard more footsteps coming towards him, and rounding a corner was his partner in crime, Dee.

Dee took one look at their hero and indescribable rage overtook his usual calm exterior. No one hurt their hero. Whoever had done this had hell to pay, and Dee's face showed no mercy.

“How did you find him?” There was a clipped edge to his voice that Virgil had honestly never heard from the other before.

“By the gates. He just…” Virgil searched for the right words but came up helpless. “He just collapsed when I got to him. Fell unconscious soon after.”

There was a beat of silence before Morality’s words truly processed. “He said we were the only ones he thought to go to.”

Dee’s left eye glowed yellow and a nearby window shattered. Virgil jumped, jostling the unconscious hero and wincing at the pained intake of breath the hero made at the movements.

“Take him to a room, and see what you can do about…” Dee’s eyes flitted from one wound to another, most of the larger ones still sluggishly bleeding. “I’ll find out who did this.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Why are you so butthurt about sunny boy, anyway?” The Duke rolled his eyes on the screen. “You guys are enemies.”

“This city doesn’t have an abundance of heroes.” Dee snapped, glaring at his contact. “Unlike most of you, we understand there must be balance for anything to work. And someone upset that balance by trying to take out our only hero.” He practically hissed the words.

“So?” The Duke couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the simple concept. “Having sunshine out of the picture means you can actually succeed in a plan! Wreak havoc! Rule the city!”

“You dunce, that’s not how we operate!” His left eye glowed in warning and the other man stilled like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. “A chaotic city is the last thing I want! The civilians see Morality as the only true hero the city has, thanks to the corrupt police and shady business politicians. If I want to rule, I’ll use my brain, not by trying to off the only thing keeping this city figuratively standing.”

The Duke groaned, but didn’t argue. “Fine, fine, whatever. I’ll find who did this and get back to you.” He gave a mock salute before the screen went dark.

Dee blew air out through his nose sharply. _ Couldn’t those idiots see if the city was in ruins, there would be no reason to rule over it. Who would want something that’s broken like that when you could steal it whole under people’s noses? _

He left the room to find Virgil and Morality, finding his second-in-command had given the hero one of the nicer rooms in the building. The younger villain was in the middle of methodically cleaning and dressing the wounds on the hero’s chest. Dee thought it was best not to disturb him, so he kept quiet and watched. Virgil was very handy with his medical knowledge, often playing nurse for the Duke or some of the other brawn they hired. He always said it came from experience, and as he wiped blood from a particularly nasty gash across the right breast, Dee could see it was true.

“He bled out a lot. I think we… might need to take him to the hospital.” Virgil said softly, sounding much younger than he was. “This will only delay the inevitable if we don’t get him a blood transfusion.”

“We have our own stores, Virgil.” Dee replied, tempering his words carefully. “You can find out his blood-type. We can’t go to the public about this.”

The younger’s shoulders stiffened, Dee standing at an angle he couldn’t see his face. “We don’t have enough. I already checked.”

“We’ll get more. But he is not leaving this building until he can on his own volition.” He said with finality. “Whoever did this must become a lesson.”

Virgil stopped his dressing of the gash to look at Dee, his brows furrowed in a confused question.

“Someone hurt our hero." Dee explained. "I don’t care how the public views us, but I will not stand that the Underground gets ideas that to gain prestige is to take out the city’s only light.”

“Wow, when did you become such a hero?” Virgil snorted as he turned away.

“You know as well as I that our ideologies have always paralleled with this man's. We just had a different way of enacting them. Nothing more.”

Virgil went silent again and returned to helping the unconscious man.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Patton woke slowly, painfully. Everything, _ everything _ hurt. His muscles ached worse than after any big battle, and his head felt like lead encased it, sealing even his eyelids shut.

Memories were foggy, a hazy mess of red and black and pleads and hands, hands, _ hands. _

His eyes shot open as he gasped for air, and groaned when even breathing hurt. A hand sluggishly went over his side, feeling thick bandages covering him like a mummy.

_ Right… _ Patton winced as the events of before he passed out slammed back into him like a freighter. He had heard suspicious sounds in an alleyway. An ambush. He put up a decent fight, even if he was doomed to fail once the weapons were drawn. Knives, rocks, bricks, knuckle dusters. Anything that could kill a person silently but brutally.

He remembered being dragged off someplace where the torment continued. He remembered being sedated enough to not be able to use his powers, but not sedated enough to not feel. He couldn’t be sure how long he had been in the room before he was suddenly back on the streets, thrown out of a moving van to die.

After that, his memory was choppy at best. He remembered… He remembered arms, purple sleeved arms. He remembered voices, familiar and yet unfamiliar, but he couldn’t recall what they said, or who they had been. He remembered how he thought about finding Logan, but knowing he couldn’t endanger his closest friend and roommate. Logan still didn’t know. He couldn’t spring the news that he was Morality in his condition.

A door creaked nearby and Patton gasped before he winced in pain, letting the air out in a low groan.

“Oh my god, you’re alive!” He had never heard that voice sound so… happy. Surely he was dreaming. He could not actually be hearing _Anxiety_ sound _happy_ for him?

And yet, the pain wouldn’t lessen, making it clear as anything he was not still in his own head. Then Anxiety’s face swam into view, his normally narrowed eyes wide and searching Patton. He couldn’t tell what the vigilante – Patton refused to see the two he fought the most as villains, they were just… misguided – was looking for, but he seemed to have found it, his shoulders slumping in relief.

He opened his mouth to say something, a question probably, but only a hoarse croak vibrated through his throat, and _ wow did that hurt _. Anxiety took the sound as a call to action and sprung into movement.

“I’ll, ah, uh, water! Need water?” His tone was soft but harried, only looking away from Patton when he nodded minutely.

A straw appeared in his vision, one end aimed for him and the other in a clear cup of water. Patton tried – he really did – to move his arms to hold the cup but found it hurt too much, so Anxiety held it for him until he seemed done, and the vigilante put the water away. The sips Patton had felt like heaven down his throat and he settled further into the bed he was on.

“I’ll let Dee know you’re awake, but I’m not even sure when he’ll be back. Caught a lead and he’s on the warpath.” Anxiety’s voice was as soothing as the waves at this point, but his words…

“War…path?” Patton spoke in a cracking whisper, the loudest he could go without hurting his throat.

Anxiety paused and fidgeted, looking at Patton carefully, his eyes scanning his face for something. “How… how much do you remember?”

_ Knives, knuckle dusters, hands, hands handshandshan- _

He winced, and it was apparently enough of an answer for the vigilante. “Well, when you passed out, Dee, well… He wants to make an example that no one messes with you.”

Two warring emotions bubbled to the surface. He had made the right choice, coming to the two, but it was against everything he stood for to have Deceit ‘make an example’ for his sake.

“He, he doesn’t have to-” He said shakily, but Anxiety put up a hand to stop him.

“Morality, Deceit doesn’t care if he doesn’t have to do this. We’ve been too lenient with the underworld, and that led to you almost bleeding out yesterday.” A dark aura emanated from Anxiety as he spoke, and Patton’s heart started to race. “Dee likes order, yea? Whoever did this wanted to disrupt that order and he’s out for blood.” There’s a wry smile twisting the vigilante’s face. “And with you out of commission, he’ll be able to… _ discipline _ to his heart’s content until everyone knows not to mess with his precious balance and order.”

Patton pursed his lips, uncertain how he felt, but knew Anxiety was correct. There wasn’t anything he could do if he could barely grab a cup of water for himself, much less speak at a normal volume. He sighed, resigned.

There was a pregnant silence between them as the dark aura faded away, before Anxiety stood up. “I’m… going to see how things are on Dee’s side. I’ll leave the water near you, and if you… uh, if you need anything, click this.” He pulled out a clicker from his hoodie pocket and slipped it in Patton’s hand. “It’ll send me a message. You should, ah, uh, you need to rest.”

Patton wanted to argue, but the thought of sleeping, of leaving the pain of consciousness for a bit, sounded so pleasing, had his eyelids fluttering shut already. He nodded slowly and rested his head back down onto the pillows, and never heard Anxiety leave before he was asleep.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

_ “A small gang that had been gaining a notorious name, the Heart Attacks, had been demolished in a building police believed their base of command had been located, which had been blown up. The explosion holds the trademark yellow powder of the villain Deceit, so it can only be assumed he is the culprit. We have no idea why or how this came about, but everyone is both relieved to see one less shady building, and worried for why the normally psychological villain would so viciously attack another group of criminals. If there are any of you who may have answers or theories, we’d love to hear them on our Facebook page.” _

_ ~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ _

“Why’d you trust us?” Virgil asked, picking at his take-out food while Morality shovelled his into his mouth.

The question made the hero stop, glancing over at him with a slight tilt of his head, thoughtful.

It had been three days since Morality had shown up at the lair, and the man hadn’t been able to eat until now. Dee was making rounds in the underworld to scare anyone who thought about acting like the gang he decimated, so it was just the two of them again.

“I… Well, I couldn’t just go to the hospital, it was too far, and… I couldn’t just go to my… my friend. He doesn’t know.” His eyes went wide suddenly. “Oh gosh, he’s going to think I’m dead!”

“I mean, maybe.” Virgil shrugged. He couldn’t really help the frantic hero, but put a hand on his chest when he tried to get off the bed. “But you’re going to explain it to the guy after you’re healed. I don’t think you had your phone with you when you got here.”

“No, no, I leave it… with my clothes, uhh…” Morality looked at his take-out box and sighed. “I know I’m going to have to tell him, but…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I haven’t answered your question. You… Both you and Deceit… You’re not bad, I think.”

“You think? Dee just killed practically an entire gang in cold blood. I don’t think that’s exactly good, Morality.”

“Well… That’s the thing. You both have such high morals, like me, but you go about working on it in the wrong way. And…” The hero muttered something under his breath that Virgil heard as ‘put on.’

“What?”

“…Patton. You, you can call me Patton.”

Virgil froze. _ Did… Did he just… Really?!? _

Before he could think, he was replying. “Well, call me Virgil.” His eyes went wide as he outed himself to the hero, and when he stared at the other, he could tell he wasn’t the only one shocked.

Morality... _ Patton, _ then gave a wide grin. It was almost too bright for Virgil to bear, and yet it was infectious. He gave a shy smile in return and looked back at his food.

“Thank you. For…” He seemed unsure what to say, but Virgil didn’t want to hear it yet. There were still multiple possibilities them telling each other their identities would bite them in the ass later.

“Don’t. Not yet, anyway. You can thank me and Dee when you’re well enough.” He deflected for the moment.

“Well, Doctor Virgil, how much longer until I’m well enough?” Patton settled into the bed, putting his empty takeout to the side.

“Uh,” he coughed to clear his throat, warm at the easy teasing the hero’s tone held, “I’d say another day and you’ll be safe enough to walk and leave when you’re up for it. You have that mutant fast healing like the rest of us, and I managed to keep you from infection. You haven’t died also, so that’s… good.”

The hero laughed. “Before I leave, I think I’d like a shower or something to clean up.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to Dee about that. And maybe a change of clothes? Do you even have extra outfits?”

“Yeah, actually! And a few people from the city who knows a good tailor.” He cocked his head to the side as a thought seemed to come to him. “Actually, I think they’re more of a cosplayer designer. But I have about ten backups because of all the fighting I do wears them out quickly. Do you have something similar? I know we’ve had big fights where I’ve managed to rip your suits.”

Virgil laughed this time and shook his head. “Kinda? But not like ten backups. More like variations until the main one is fixed again, and I fix up my own shit. Dee has some tailor work for him from the underground. I don’t like people touching my things.” He shrugged.

Patton nodded in understanding, his eyelids drooping. This had been the longest he had been awake since the attack - Virgil could tell it was the healing ability all mutants had been born with, since it took up so much energy to accelerate the process that would take non-mutants weeks or longer to fix, and Patton was still healing. Virgil waited until the hero was out before he carefully stood, grabbing the empty takeout box and leaving the room.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

It was late in the evening a couple days after the two outed each other when Patton was given the OK to get ready to leave the vigilantes’ “lair,” as Anx... _Virgil_ called it. He had been given some civilian clothes - a huge purple and blue gradient sweater that could have been worn as a dress as it reached mid-thigh, and some gray sweatpants and a pair of sandals - and was shown to a bathroom with a hot shower to clean up.

It was like ridding the experience from his body. He watched as the grime that hadn’t been cleaned by Virgil or Deceit when he had been unconscious slip into the drain, mentally arranging how he planned on coming forward to Logan, but always got stuck just before could think of a way for Logan to believe he was the hero Morality without his friend freaking out.

… Okay, so freak out wouldn’t be the word to describe Logan, but Patton still couldn’t figure out how to tell his closest friend his biggest secret without some sort of rift dividing them. Not even Deceit or Virgil seemed to know how to help, besides telling him to just treat the situation like ripping off a bandaid.

Patton rubbed his face one last time with the water spraying his head before shutting it off and changing into the clean clothes. It was only then that he realized he had lost his glasses sometime during the attack. Suddenly noticing how everything further away had been fuzzy at best made sense with the realization, and he chuckled to himself. He had been so focused on healing he had completely forgotten he couldn’t see clearly for days. At least he knew he had a spare pair back at his place.

Virgil was waiting for him in the hallway, his hands stuffed in an oversized hoodie - the thought that the sweater Patton was currently wearing was his made his heart speed up inexplicably with… affection maybe? - and looking down at the corner between the floor and wall opposite him before his eyes snapped up to Patton’s face.

“Ready to go? You sure you want us to burn the outfit?” He asked as he straightened a bit.

“Yeah. I don’t… want some of the memories I’ll have associated with it, even if it’s fixed.” Patton assured him, and the two started walking, Virgil taking the lead.

There was a slight hesitation in the vigilante’s walk as Patton spoke but he nodded and continued on. “Oh, right. Yeah, makes sense. Dee wanted to be sure. Before you leave the property, we’ll light it up.”

“Thank you, Virgil. Really.” Patton genuinely said, playing with the sleeves of the sweat he wore. “I’m glad I was right to trust you both.”

Virgil grunted as a response.

The two made it to the front door quickly, where Deceit was waiting for them, holding a Ziploc bag of Patton’s ruined Morality suit in one gloved hand.

“What was the decision on this?” He asked the two of them as they approached.

“Burn it.” Patton answered, his stomach twisting at the sight of his hero suit.

“Good choice.” Deceit replied as he opened the front door. “Last piece and then the physical remains of the underworld’s misbehaviour will be gone.” Patton noticed how the vigilante looked at him for a brief second. “The memories, however, will be harder to burn away.”

Patton hunched his shoulders, letting the long sleeves swallow his hands up completely. They all walked out, where a small campfire was ready and waiting. Deceit simply had to unzip the bag and flung it into the fire, his left eye glowing to have the bag land directly in the middle of the fire.

Watching his suit alight in the fire, blurry as it was without his glasses, was a bizarre moment for Patton. It was like he was watching some past him, the past him that had been almost killed in the line of duty as a hero, leaving him with an uncertain future.

A hand ghost-touched his shoulder, and when he turned to see who it was, Virgil was already retracting his arm. “We should, uh, we should get you going.”

“Anx, go with him. At least with protection, you’ll get home without incident.” Deceit suggested, but the tone sounded like an order. “You’ve both been stuck in the lair for far too long, some walking will do you both good.”

“Uh, sure, right.” Virgil nodded, and he looked at Patton as if to ask if it was okay.

“That sounds like a great idea. You don’t want to come with, Deceit?” Patton turned to the older vigilante, who shook his head.

“No, I’ve done enough walking since you came to us. But I will warn you, do not return to patrol for another few days. I will stop with my discipline by then, and I’d rather not fight you knowing what you’ve just gone through.”

Patton nodded. “Okay. I… Thank you, both of you.” He looked from one to the other with a grateful smile. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

“Thank you for telling us we haven’t been keeping the underworld in control. We will not allow this sort of thing to happen again.” Deceit extended a hand to shake, but Patton was not going to let the moment go that quickly and distantly.

He threw his arms around the older man, hugging him around the shoulders. Like every time he made physical contact with Deceit, Patton noticed how toned his arms were, his physical strength hidden by the lean frame and business-like attire he regularly wore. The vigilante tensed at the embrace but still was kind enough to awkwardly pat his back in return. It actually reminded him of Logan and how awkward he was with physical affection as well.

The thought of his friend brought Patton back to the present and he stepped away from Deceit, smiling in apology for the sudden intimate contact.

“Thank you, again.” He said, before he turned to Virgil. “We should… go?”

“Uh?” The younger vigilante looked startled at the question. “Right, yeah, let’s go. You sure you want me to come along?”

“Yeah. I mean… If you want to walk with me?” Patton knew it was a lot to just give his name to someone the media believed to be his biggest enemy, and it was quite another to show said ‘enemy’ where he lived as a civilian, but he had to agree with Deceit. He did not want to walk back alone at this time of night.

“Uh, sure, okay.” Virgil nodded and took the lead again to the front gates, where just under a week ago, Patton had passed out in front of, only held up by Anxiety. “We should hurry.”

With a final glance at Deceit, who was looking at the fire, Patton followed Virgil and they walked out onto the street, the streetlights the only thing lighting up their way outside of the few cars along the street.

They were relatively quiet during the walk to Patton’s place, an apartment complex in the more quieter, nicer areas in the city. It was hard to find conversation starters for the two, after spending a few days constantly near one another, and Patton couldn’t help but find the quiet peaceful for once. At least, with Virgil it wasn’t stifling like it normally was. It felt like being with Logan.

“Are we going to grab your civilian clothes first?” Virgil asked as they walked down a street, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Oh, yeah. I keep them well hidden, and out of reach from anyone who would normally try to steal whatever they find. It’s close to my place.” Patton squinted at the street sign as they approached it. “Uh, what street are we on? I don’t… my glasses.”

“Oh, shit, right.” Virgil jumped to attention and his head whipped to look at the sign. “We’re on the corner of Northgate and Elvesh right now.”

Patton mentally thought about the map he had had to remember for patrols before he figured out how close they were. “Okay, I know where to go now.” Even without glasses, Patton could make his way back to his place blindfolded as long as he knew which street he was walking along.

They walked along in silence before Virgil spoke up again, just as they crossed the street.

“Why did you tell me your name?” He asked, not looking at Patton but the other was sure he was looking in his periphery. “You just… gave it willingly. Why? We are basically enemies. I’ve kicked your ass just as many times as you’ve kicked mine. And yet… You came to us for help, and just, without looking for anything yourself, gave your name up when we could have just continued going about this as Anxiety and Morality.”

“Because… Because I wanted to. I trusted you.” Patton took his time finding the words, but still spoke from the heart. “It was… the right thing to do, you know? You could have left me outside the gates, you could have just killed me, but you didn’t. You, and Deceit too, you both brought me in, took care of me, and well. You told me your name as well.” He looked over at Virgil carefully, squinting to see him clearly. “You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Yeah…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “I… Like you said. It was the right thing to do. We both, well I guess we both hold each other’s fate in our hands. It would have been wrong to not tell you my name after you did that, I guess.” He shrugged, his shoulders now tense.

Patton smiled, and picked up the pace to walk shoulder to shoulder with the vigilante, their arms brushing against one another as they walked.

They made it to the little alcove where Patton hides his civilian clothes, and just as he had said, it was too obscure for anyone to find. His clothes were right there in his backpack, along with his many, many handmade bracelets and his cell phone. Sadly, it was dead, probably because of the constant messages and/or calls it would have gotten. Logan, despite his outward demeanour, was a worrywart. Patton knew his friend was going to throttle him when he got to the apartment, but he hoped he would also get a long, tight hug. Logan Hugs - ones he initiated, not when Patton hugs him - were a rare and serious business. Something big needed to happen for him to hug Patton first, and with him having gone missing for roughly a week, Patton hoped after the initial possible freakout, they would have the longest Logan Hug in history.

“Okay, so you have your stuff?” Virgil asked. “I… do you want me to come along to your place, or will you be okay now?”

“Stay with me, Virgil. I trust you. But… My friend, he, uh…” Patton sighed as he thought about it. “You might be able to help me tell him? You don’t have to talk!” He said quickly when he saw how startled Virgil looked at the idea. “You can just… I don’t know, you don’t have to tell him who you are, but you can say you helped me? I don’t like lying, but it’s not my place to tell you to tell my friend who you really are. But we can still say I didn’t have my phone and you helped get me back to health and stuff?”

“Uh, okay. If you think it’s a good idea.” Virgil’s shoulders remained tense, and his blurry face looked uncertain.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Logan was pacing, and he knew if he kept it up he would wear a hole through the carpet. But he was stressed, and sitting down, waiting for a call from the police station, was more torture than he was willing to bear.

When Patton hadn’t come back home days ago, Logan had gotten concerned. Patton was particular. He would always text or call Logan if he knew he was going to be late, and he always came back on the dot of when he said he’d be back, even if it was very late at night and they both had work in the early morning. Patton _ always _ told him if something came up.

So why hadn’t he contacted him in a week?

Logan, after 48 hours, contacted the police to file a missing person’s report. Gave the usual information to them: Patton’s appearance; when he last heard from him; what he was last wearing; and that his phone seemed to be dead - Logan always told Patton to stop adding so many draining apps to his phone and never closing out of them properly - since not even the tracking app would work.

Contacting the police had been five days ago, and Logan had still yet to hear any sort of news of the search.

Logan had tried, during the daytime, busy himself in his work, teaching at Miscape Academy for the high school aged students. But even they could tell he was stressed, and a few of his favourites had come up after class - several in fact came up to him in the middle of class after several long minutes of waiting for their usually enthusiastic-about-teaching teacher to get up and begin the lessons he clearly had ready - to ask what was going on. Not only students, but colleagues were noticing how stressed Logan had become, his phone, which he _ never _ had out during school hours to be an example to his students, clutched in his hands at all times, jumping in fright every time a notification went off on something that would normally be interesting to him but not what he wanted to know about. He, of course, did not tell his students everything besides something personal happened and he was concerned, but he vented to the head of the Drama department, his childhood friend, Roman, about everything. He would have gone to the school counselor, Emile, but the poor man was already swamped with students who were suffering in one way or another. Logan did not wish to add more stress to Emile's life.

Roman had been a good help in not losing his complete shit during the days, but then the weekend came, and Roman was busy with rehearsals and working himself. So here he was, late into a Saturday evening, and he was about to wear a hole into the carpet.

When news came of the Heart Attacks’ building exploding, for an irrational moment, Logan thought what if Patton had been a member or a captive of theirs - they had a flair of kidnapping kind-hearted people who would snoop at the sound of distress and do no-one-knows-what to them - or just around the building when Deceit destroyed it. Despite Logan’s assurance to Patton that he was never irrational, with said friend missing, he had more than a couple irrational fears pop into his head.

He wished he had someone in the apartment to not feel like he was going to lose his mind.

The sound of the doorknob jiggling made Logan pause, whirling around to face the door as it quickly slowly opened.

“Lo?” There were few instances Logan could remember when joyous tears pricked his eyes - frustrated, angry, sad, heartbroken tears had been all too common back in his high school days - but he would shout to the rooftops that he was emotional hearing that voice.

Patton walked in, wearing baggy clothes that made him look homeless, with someone who also looked either like they never left their teenage angst phase or was actually homeless and had a bad sleep schedule. Patton didn’t have his glasses, so he was squinty as he looked around, his face paler than normal and a lack of the usual bubbliness Logan was loathe to say he was fond of.

Logan took no time to think of his actions as he crossed the room and pulled Patton as close as was physically possible, hugging him with all the worry he had felt and relief. His friend could only exhale in surprise as Logan squeezed all the air out of his lungs. He had to make sure this was really him, that he was really back.

“I’m sorry, Lo.” Patton mumbled breathlessly into his ear.

“What happened? Where were you? Why didn’t you text me? Call me?” Logan pulled away to look at his friend in the face, hands gripping Patton’s shoulders. Irrational fears like if he let him go, Logan would never see him again. “I had to call the police! I put a missing person’s report on you!”

“I’m sorry, I… You did?!” Patton looked surprised, glancing from his friend to the other person hanging around by the door. “Uh, uh, we’ll focus on that later. After… I… Logan, I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Logan squinted at Patton carefully.

The other took a careful breath, shutting his eyes as if mustering up something to say what he wanted to tell him, before he opened them and looked Logan directly in the eye.

“I’m Morality.”


	2. elbarenluV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, what would happen if Virgil wound up in front of Patton's apartment in the middle of the night, after escaping some new threats?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter title is Vulnerable spelled backwards. No, I don't think I'm that creative.  
Warnings for this chapter: Violence, mild torture descriptions, uncertain character's living status, character death, blood.

Virgil huffed, blinking hard as he stumbled through the streets, the only lights coming from the pinpoints of streetlamps dotting down. _ Gotta find him quickly. Just a couple more blocks. _

His limbs struggled to listen to his mind, whatever concoction they had dumped down his throat doing a number on his consciousness. He felt as if he were walking in a dream, or moving through syrup. He could barely keep his balance, his right side leaning heavily against the closest building.

A broken part of the sidewalk appeared beneath him before he could register and his foot caught the lip, sending him tumbling down with a winded yelp. Any tears he had left spilled, and it was hard, _ so hard _ to breathe. Virgil’s chest was tight, and he shook as he tried hard not to fall into the panic attack he clearly needed. _ It wasn’t safe. Not yet. Gotta find him. _ He kept up the mantra as he sloppily stood up, hands scrambling for purchase on the building beside him.

The streets were familiarly unfamiliar in a confusing way. If he was sober-minded, it would simply be familiar. He had been walking down this path to meet up with Patton for over a year now after the Morality hiatus, as the three of them called it.

_ No, don’t think of that. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, not yet, yet, not yet- _

His chest had never felt so tight, each gasp painful, whether it had been from the beatings or the panic welling up inside him, Virgil wasn’t sure. He could barely keep a thought for longer than a second, past and present fighting to overwhelm him, and time seemed to pass weirdly. He wasn’t sure how he managed to move still, but sidewalks and street-lamps suddenly became wooden panel floors and hallways full of doors, numbered. He couldn’t read the numbers, but he knew which door to stop in front of.

  1. The numbers swam into view. Well, more like they jumped suddenly into being in front of his eyes, between blinks. _Man, what did they shove down my throat?_

The panic was welling up, threatening to burst, and Virgil desperately hoped Logan or Patton were home. Despite knowing it had at one point been night, he couldn’t remember how long it took to drag himself from whatever gutter he had escaped to the door in front of him.

He hadn’t realized he was pounding on the door until suddenly the door swung open and he pitched forward, falling into a body. Words floated into his hearing, but nothing processed but the tone. Frantic. Confused. Soft. Warm.

_ Safe. _

“I din’know where t’go.” His throat rumbled him back to the present momentarily, meeting round glasses hiding pale blue irises.

Patton mouthed something, but nothing came through as a thick cloud encroached on Virgil, swallowing him whole. It was more exhausting to delay a panic attack than it was to endure one.

As he let go of consciousness, he felt hands hold him close, shaking him as if it would help keep him in the land of the living.

_ ~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ _

_ They had been lenient again. Not in the same way as with the Heart Attacks, but Dee and Virgil grew soft. Easy to yank the floor from under them. _

_ The team had gone for Virgil first. Ever vigilant towards others, he was blind to the danger he was in. He thought, thanks to his powers, he had nothing to worry about. The underworld knew how powerful he and Dee were individually, surely no one would be dumb enough to try something against them. _

_ The dumb one was him. _

_ The man had a siren’s voice, entrancing him in place while the others grabbed him and something pricked his neck. Paralysis set in quick, and Virgil could only watch in horror as he was dragged away, staring at the siren, his sunglasses as golden as his voice. _

_ He had been blinded soon after, a burlap sack almost suffocating him as panic wrapped around his torso. Voices, names filtered through, but he couldn’t understand which gang this was. They hadn’t looked familiar, and Virgil tried to keep tabs on all the gangs in the underworld. Were they upstarts? They worked too well to be starting out. _

_ “Come on, Vagabond.” The siren spoke, but the layers were no longer there. He sounded British. Virgil hadn’t noticed that before. “Kingpin wants us out before he sends the threat to this kid’s partner.” _

_ “Yeah, yeah.” A Georgian drawl dismissed the British Siren. “We’ll be out of the way in plenty of time. Is Jackie sure this guy is like Lil J’s age? He weighs like a single bag of flour.” _

_ The two bickered much like Dee and the Duke, or him and Logan’s co-worker, Roman. _

_ He was moved away into the unknown, the two’s voices louder than any other indicator of where they were heading or how many turns they might have been making. All of it simply added to the welling panic, but it was impossible to move under the drugs that paralysed him. He could only hope Dee would figure something was wrong before the “threat” came to him. _

_ Spoiler alert: he didn’t. _

_ When Virgil could see - or move for that matter - it had been several hours later at least. He had been moved to a van, and promptly knocked unconscious. He awoke tied to a chair bolted to the floor, a bolted table in front of him in a threadbare, almost police station style interrogation room. _

_ “Welcome to the land of the living, Anxiety, dear.” A gruff feminine voice brought his attention to the door. Two ladies in casualwear stood together. They both had fiery red hair, although one looked more natural than the other. One wore a cat shirt, while the other wore a floral blouse. “We’ve heard a great deal about you.” _

_ The woman, her hair naturally red, in the cat shirt stepped into the room first, a pleasant smile gracing her feature as if she were a barista welcoming a good regular customer rather than a criminal meeting another criminal. _

_ “We just have a few questions, and maybe we’ll let you go!” Cat-shirt said, and Virgil saw a flash of something darker in her green eyes. _

_ Virgil jerked his arms, testing his restraints, but they held fast. _

_ “Oh, please. You aren’t the first we’ve caught, dear.” Floral-print seemed to sigh, staying by the door. “And don’t try to use your powers. We have enough suppressants you won’t be feeling much of anything for days at least. You’ll only give yourself an unnecessary migraine.” _

_ Virgil growled. “Who are you?” _

_ “Why, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of us.” Cat-shirt laughed pleasantly, but it sounded wrong in the setting. “We’re _ very _ popular next city over. Took the entire underworld there.” _

_ He frowned. Were they trying to expand outside the limits of their territory, then? It would explain why he never knew of them, he tried to only look at the underworld under his city’s domain. He kept silent and stared at the red-heads, waiting for a better answer. _

_ “We’re the Fakes, if you must know.” Floral-print answered after a long enough pause. _

_ The name meant nothing to Virgil still, but at least, if he managed to get away, he could look into it and how to deal with them in his and Dee’s world. _

_ “What do you want.” He demanded. _

_ “As blunt as ever, I see.” Floral-print smiled thinly. “Well, as Ruby here said, we have a few questions to ask you, and depending on how willing you are, we might just let you go, nice and easy.” _

_ “What.” _

_ “How long have you been in this business?” The two women sit on the table, Ruby sitting farther back while Floral-print sat in his space, looming over him as she spoke. _

_ “Does it matter? Long enough to work alongside the head of the underworld here.” _

_ Floral-print clicked her tongue, looking like she swallowed a lemon. “Why would Deceit choose you out of the countless criminals in the city?” _

_ “If you’ve heard about me, then you’d already know that answer. And if you hadn’t suppressed me, you’d see for yourself.” _

_ “But I’d rather hear it from the body itself. Rumours can be sooooo wrong!” Ruby piped in, leaning a hand against the table and looking comfortable. She was really unsettling Virgil with how eased she looked. _

_ “What have you heard about me?” He countered. _

_“A vigilante who happened to wander his way to the top of the criminal chain. A mutant with shadow powers.” The usual, Virgil wasn’t totally surprised by his reputation. “27 years old. Born-” _Wait what _“-December 19, to Adela and Paul Sanderson.” _What the **fuck?!** _“Single child, both parents died at a very young age. Got stuck in the foster system and took to pickpocketing with your powers.”_

_ Floral-print leant forward, smiling like a shark down at Virgil. “Would you like me to continue, Anxiety?” _

_ He gaped at her and felt as if his eyes would bug out of his head. Not even Dee knew that much about him. Who were these people?! _

* * *

_ After the little interrogation, Virgil snapped his mouth shut and refused to speak to Ruby or Floral-print, or anyone else who came into the room. He was eventually moved to a small prison cell and given food - bread, cheese, and pitless grapes - as well as bottled water. It was possibly all spiked with suppressants, but Virgil would rather keep his strength than risk however long it would take to get the drugs out of his system and leave him weak. _

_ It hadn’t been his first kidnapping. _

_ Still, he would attempt to feel for his powers, but nothing worked. It was like he wasn’t a mutant anymore, something was missing that had previously been a constant pressure. He hated it. _

_ They stopped asking questions, and sent the Georgian ‘Vagabond’ to “make him look presentable.” _

_ It meant to beat the shit out of him to make it clear to Dee that he was under their mercy. _

_ This Vagabond didn’t hold anything back, and Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if he were a mutant as well, with superhuman strength. An hour with him being a punching bag left him unconscious by the end, thankful to escape the pain momentarily. _

* * *

_ Dee tried to storm the place when he got the news of Virgil’s kidnapping. From the events after, Virgil heard he had managed to kill Ruby and two others, a ‘Mogar’ and an ‘X-Ray.’ _

_ Dee made it to Virgil’s cell and had just got the door smashed to pieces when the shot rang out. _

_ Floral-print stood behind Dee as he fell over gripping his chest, a look of agony screwing her face up as tears dripped down her cheeks. _

_ Virgil only caught the expression for a brief second before he dropped to catch Dee, ignoring the distressed/angry woman holding a gun in his direction. He couldn’t let Dee die. He was the closest thing to a brother he had, after all the time they worked together. _

_ He was breathing. Well, it was more like gasping. Blood dripped from the wound on his right side. He was trying to speak, and Virgil feared they would be his Final Words. _

_ Nails scraped through his hair before a fist wrenched him away from Dee. He cried out and fought against the hold until something blunt - he later guessed it was the butt of pistol Floral-print had - knocked him hard in the temple, and the last thing he saw was Dee gasping his name. _

* * *

_ If Dee was dead or not, Virgil was not given any information. In fact, the Fakes did not speak to him besides demanding information on the underworld. It wasn’t his area, and he told them as much with enough venom in his voice that he could muster. _

_ They changed things up with his torment, as well. A young man around his age, wearing outrageous clothes in orange and purple and a cowboy hat, along with the Vagabond, would try extracting information with force. The British siren tried to compel him into giving information he had no knowledge of with his layered voice. He hadn’t seen Floral-print since the attempted rescue. Virgil wondered if it was because she would try to kill him for what happened to Ruby or one of the other two that Dee killed. _

_ The group also added things to his food and water. It was like alcohol but fast acting, and worse on his mental state. Things, days, started to blur together. One moment he would be feeling the fist of the Vagabond, and next he would be on the ground in his cell, no one around. His memories felt fuzzy. Everything hurt. _

_ And he had no idea what happened to Dee. _

* * *

_ He wasn’t sure if they had simply forgotten to give him the suppressants or if they had no more, or whatever the reason. But the shadows began to move, and he didn’t think. Well, he couldn’t, thanks to whatever was making his eyes see things that weren’t there. He had to get away, and with Dee… _

_ There was only one person he could think to go to. _

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Patton paced in the living room, his stomach in knots as he waited for news, for his dumb door to open and show Dr. Picani, Logan’s co-worker’s partner. He had no idea who to go to until Logan suggested the guidance counsellor’s partner, a doctor at the small clinic in the shadier part of the city.

Remy had no questions, and seemed to know Virgil, so maybe he had made a good choice.

Still made waiting agonizing.

He had been worried for the vigilante after not hearing from either him or Deceit for almost two weeks. They hadn’t gone that quiet since the days they were only enemies. Before the Incident. When they would try to come up with something ‘dastardly’ against the police or the government or someone that might or might not have deserved it.

So when Virgil appeared outside his door, late into the night, looking through him and mumbling the entire time before his eyes rolled back and he just passed out in his arms, Patton had gone from mild concern to red alert terrified.

He wrung his hands, trying to calm his breathing, but it wasn’t working. Logan had stopped trying to calm him down as well, watching the pacing with tired eyes. He had been getting tired a lot more since the Incident, kept up every time Patton went out as Morality.

On the plus side, Patton got more Logan Hugs. On the downside, he had been given several thousand lessons on safety and caution, even more reprimands and scolding and worried talking-to’s that it seemed at one point Patton was afraid Logan would lose the air in his lungs from his long-winded sentences.

Dr. Picani’s partner, Emile, was in the kitchen, making some coffee and tea for them all to try to defuse the worry by a fraction.

“It’ll be alright. Rem’s really good. Your friend will be okay.” Emile said kindly as he set down a large mug of tea on the coffee table, having handed Logan a smaller mug of coffee with a lot of creamer stirred in.

“You’re right, but I can’t help it.” He replied, still pacing. He wasn’t sure if he could stop at this point.

“Sit and drink tea before you drill a hole into the carpet.” Logan used his Teacher Voice, and it actually compelled Patton to listen. He was always good at that, but Patton’s leg started jittering once he sat down. “I almost did that already last year. I don’t want to get a new rug.”

“Right. Right. You’re right.” He tried taking a sip of his tea, it did smell really good, but his hands shook a little too much to hold the mug well. He hadn’t gotten like this in months, when he had walked past the alleyway where he had been taken.

At that moment, luckily, Dr. Picani walked out of the bedroom, running a hand through his hair tiredly. Patton was up and walking over immediately, a thousand questions stumbling over themselves in his mouth. The man held up a hand and all the words fizzled away.

“Whatever happened to him was a doozy. He’ll be asleep for a while to heal and to get whatever was messing with him out of the system. I’m honestly scared to look at the drugs in his system, he was barely aware of his surroundings or what was happening. He’s also suffering from a concussion. Or have been, or it’s part of the concoction. Cracked and bruised ribs. I…” He looked at Patton. “He needs to come to the clinic. I need my machines to see the internal damage.”

“Are you sure? Is he going to die?” Patton asked, worry etching into every line of his face.

“Yes, I’m sure. Look, darling, he may have come to you, but he needs a doctor, and a hospital bed. If he doesn’t, he _ will _ die.”

Patton nodded. Virgil… He couldn’t die. He didn’t want him to die. He couldn’t figure out how he would continue without him.

“Okay, help me get him into my car.” The doctor fished through his pockets and found some keys to toss to his husband. “Start up the engine, babe. We’ll be right behind you.”

Emile started, catching the keys just before they smacked his face, and he nodded before patting Logan’s shoulder and heading out while Remy and Patton went back into his bedroom to collect Virgil.

The sight of Virgil had Patton’s stomach in knots. He had always been thin and lanky, but this was unhealthy even for the vigilante. The bags under his eyes made him look even more ghostly, and his hair was a tangled, oily mess.

Dr. Picani instructed him on how to pick Virgil up bridal style while making sure nothing jostled him too much.

Holding him close, Patton hated how light the younger man felt now. He leant forward, hiking up the unconscious man for better reach, and brushed his lips against his forehead.

“Please. Please be okay.” He whispered shakily before he pulled away and walked out.

“Let me know anything when you get it, Patton.” Logan called before he and the doctor left the apartment. Patton could only nod, his throat tight as he tried to watch Virgil and where he was going at the same time.

The drive to the clinic was quiet outside of some station playing jazz at the lowest volume setting. Emile tapped on the steering wheel every time they were at a red light, stopping only when his partner stole a hand. Patton kept his attention on Virgil, barely able to see in the dark car. He carded his hands through his hair, smoothing it back out of his face, gently untangling the knots.

They made it to the clinic without incident, and Virgil was quickly rushed into it. The clinic was open 24/7, with a small rotation of 3 doctors and 8 nurses to keep an eye on the ones who must stay for the night. The receptionist saw Patton holding Virgil briefly, saw Remy was with them, and told them of an open bed they could go to. Remy had the two bring Virgil to the open bed while he figured if the machines were free to use for the night.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Virgil felt something laying on his arm when he woke up. It was a struggle to crack his eyelids open, as if some force was pushing down on him. Everything felt dull and heavy.

He twitched, and it seemed to snap whatever was on his arm away with a sharp gasp.

“Vi-Virgil?” A voice breathed his name, and the word seemed to tremble as it was said. _ Why did this person sound so worried for him? _

It took a lot of effort, but he cracked an eye open, the pale light bulbs not burning into his retinas. He squinted around before a face swam into view. Large glasses taking half of his face, wide, worried blue eyes searching his face, lips twisted between a hopeful smile and a concerned frown.

Virgil only blinked once at the sight before him, his mind muddled. But the movement seemed to jolt electricity through the hero, and suddenly tears were spilling as the largest smile he had ever seen on Patton took over his entire face.

“Oh thank gods, Virgil.” His voice was watery and cracking with an overflow of emotion that Virgil couldn’t understand. “Are, are you okay?”

Doing anything took a great effort, but at least blinking and seeing was getting easier. He grunted, his lips parting to try speaking.

“I dunno… Hurts.” He mumbled, unsure entirely what he was saying.

Patton chuckled wetly and nodded, as if expecting that. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’m just… so happy you’re awake.” He cupped Virgil’s face gently with one hand while the other wiped at his own face, and he sniffed. “I was so worried.”

Virgil’s face felt like it was on fire, and Patton’s hand felt like the source. He tried to duck his head as best he could, mumbling an apology.

“No, no, don’t be. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.” Patton leant forward and rested his forehead against Virgil’s for a short second. He did that a lot when it was just the two of them. It always left Virgil warm and breathless.

The two were quiet, Patton sitting by the bed Virgil was in. Or maybe Patton was speaking, Virgil couldn’t entirely tell. It was hard to tell what was going on, and he was very tired. It had taken a lot of energy just to wake up and listen for ten minutes. He felt a hand slip into his own, and gave a single squeeze before he returned to sleep.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

He had been in the clinic for almost a week, asleep for about half of that time. The first day he woke up for the full day, Virgil saw Logan and Patton. Logan was reprimanding Patton for not taking care of himself while Virgil was recovering, but Patton didn’t seem to have heard a single word when he saw he had woken up.

It took some time, but Patton managed to piece together what happened, and his heart just about broke after hearing what had happened to Dee. A wave of anger rolled through him the more he understood what had happened to the two, and by the end of the week, he had a half-baked plan.

He had to find out Dee’s fate, and stop these villains. They hurt his friends. He was a hero, and this would not stand.

Logan tried to stop him a total of one time. His lecture fizzled at his tongue the moment he looked at Patton’s face. Calm, impassive, almost cold.

Rather than a lecture, Logan stuttered some advice. “Just… have backup, Patton. The police, anyone.” He gave one of his Logan Hugs, and then Patton left.

Of course Patton was getting help, although it was not exactly just the police. He called his contact to the station he trusted the most, and soon after called Dee and Virgil’s go-to, the Duke. He was going to get rid of this crew by any means necessary. For Dee, for Virgil, for his city.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Virgil did not hear from Patton for two days after he was discharged. Logan brought him to their apartment, explaining Patton was busy but wanted the rest of the recovery to be nearby. Virgil had no complaints, but he was worried about how Logan seemed agitated and unfocused on his work once they were back.

Dr. Picani told him to take things easy for the next month. He might have healed quickly, but the trauma would still be fresh. He would have to slowly ease back into work if he was going back into the business in the first place. At this point, Virgil wasn’t sure what he wanted to do after he got better.

The two had to find out over the news broadcast what happened to Patton.

“-To those of you just tuning in, the East End of downtown has been shut down due to what might be the biggest battle our beloved hero, Morality, has ever yet faced.” The news anchor spoke gravely, his brows furrowed as he seemed to read a teleprompter. “And in a surprising twist, he has some unique help. Along with the police you can see here, it seems Morality has forged a temporary alliance with the Duke and his boss Deceit. There has been no word as to if Anxiety has been seen in the fray, and we have refrained from endangering our crew for a shot outside what we had been able to get at a distance.”

As the man spoke, images played over. Logan and Virgil could only watch slack-jawed at the sight of Patton working with the chaotic Duke, and they seemed to be working well together as Patton held a limp body over a shoulder. Virgil’s breath caught.

Dee wasn’t dead yet.

“The trio seem to be working together against a relatively new threat. Calling themselves The Fakes, these villains have decimated the once great Achievement City and have set their sights on our beloved home to expand their underground empire.”

“That…” Logan seemed to struggle with his words, raising his hands in fists. Virgil couldn’t tell if he wanted to hit something or not. “That… He better come back soon so I can give him a piece of my mind!”

Virgil and Logan kept the news channel on throughout the day for any news on the fight. Virgil would have tried leaving to join the fray, but he knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to even use his powers. Instead, he did everything he could to distract himself, even asking if he could help Logan with his grading. Reading high school level essays on some mundane event happening outside of the country distracted the two of them for two hours before the breaking news sound could be heard and they dropped everything to see what was happening.

“We apologize for the sudden announcement, but a huge update has come to us about the battle downtown between our hero, Morality, and the Fakes.” The anchor’s face held no emotions, not showing anything as he read from the teleprompter. “It seems the battle is over. As we try to see how the dust settles, it is believed we are once again in the debt of our beloved hero for saving the day.” He gave the camera a lopsided smile before continuing. “In just a couple of minutes, we will be live downtown with Valerie.”

Virgil and Logan waited with bated breath, casting a glance at one another. Virgil wasn’t sure how Logan was feeling, but the traitorous emotion of hope squeezed around his heart.

Minutes felt like hours before finally, _ finally _, the news anchor straightened and put a finger briefly to his ear.

“And we’re live with Valerie. Val? You all okay out there?” His voice was still heard as the screen changed locations.

A young woman, paler than she should probably be, ran a hand through her hair nervously, glancing around her quickly before she answered.

“Hey, Terry. I’m safe, we all are. It’s just been nerve-wracking.” She chuckled as if it would help, and she looked behind her. “Morality really showed a new side of himself today. Even from our positions, several blocks away, we could feel practically everything.”

“What happened out there, Val?” The news anchor asked, his image appearing, showing the news room on one half and Val’s position in the other.

“We’re still not sure how it started, but police and Morality and the Duke showed up leaving a building, holding an unconscious Deceit.” Valerie began, wrapping both hands around the microphone. “That was when the Fakes came storming out after them. The police and Morality seemed to have known this would happen, and had gotten the civilians out of the area prior to whatever they did in the building. Some of the crew here believes they were in the building to rescue Deceit, but how he came to be there is still unknown, and why he was unconscious the entire battle.”

She took a deep breath and gave a small smile. “Regardless, it was a sight to behold. Morality, teaming up with his on-again off-again rivals to defeat this new threat.”

“Was there any sign of Anxiety?”

She shook her head. “Not that any of us were aware of. There’s a high possibility he wasn’t in the area, and hadn’t been called in for this battle.” She shrugged. “Whatever the reason, I’m happy to report, once all the dust settled, we saw our hero… Heroes emerge victorious.” The small smile from before grew into an elated grin, and it infected Terry, and Virgil could see it touch Logan’s lips and felt his own twitch upwards in relief.

The camera swings past Valerie and zooms in down a busted street. Cars lay on their sides, shattered glass strewn everywhere, and a few bodies moved painfully slow. Virgil’s breath caught at the sight of Patton, Morality, kneeling with his back to the camera, with the Duke tossing his head back at some joke he might have said aloud or in his head. Police worked around the two and the body of Dee - Virgil straightened at the sight of his partner’s colours barely seen from the distance and from behind Patton’s body shielding him - rounding up a few members of the Fakes. They briefly saw Floral-print and his blood ran cold.

“Will this be a new era? Morality, partnering with the Duke, _ and _ Deceit? Are they really villains, or have they been on Morality’s side from the beginning?” Valerie’s voice barely registered in his head.

An arm sagged against his, and Virgil snapped back to himself, turning to see Logan slump beside him.

“I’m still going to figuratively murder Patton.” He heard the teacher mumble tiredly, running a hand through his hair slowly. “I’m going to get grey hairs before I’m 40.”

Virgil couldn’t help the hysteric giggle that bubbled out of his mouth. “Yeah. That’s how I feel all the time.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“You know, you’re not as boring as I thought you’d be.” The Duke cackled, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You kick ass better than you give me lectures. Why don’t we fight more often?”

Patton sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not a fan of fighting when I know I don’t have to.”

“Now that’s just insulting, Mor-y.” The laughter was still in the other man’s tone, but when Patton looked up at him, he saw a mock pout. “Do I have to get more violent for us to tussle more often?”

“I’d rather not, after seeing you…” He waved around the street.

The Duke whistled. “Am I dead? Was I shot in the head? Morality, complimenting me? Dee-dee was right! You’re a bigger hoot than I thought.”

Patton did chuckle at that, and there was another soft chuckle below them that had them both freezing in place.

“He’s… a bizarre one… alright.” His voice was as hoarse as Virgil’s had been when he was in front of Patton’s home.

“Dee-dee!” The Duke cried, all humour leaving his tone. He sounded concerned.

“Deceit. How are you feeling?” Patton asked, leaning over the older vigilante, putting a hand on his chest when he tried to sit up.

“Do you want the truth?” His eyes cracked open, and Patton saw him look blearily at him and the Duke.

“Well, you’re going to some sort of doctor, so truth would be the best.” Patton replied as the Duke cackled softly - at this point, he was beginning to think that was just how the man laughed in general.

Deceit sighed, grimacing. “While I’m still conscious, I’ll tell you I’m almost certain I have that bullet still in my chest. Besides that…” His eyes fluttered shut as he spoke, and he trailed off.

“I can take him to our usual doctor. Don’t worry too much, sunshine.” The Duke gathered Deceit in his arms, his powers apparent with how scrawny he was compared to the older man yet able to pick him up like he was little more than a single small bag of flour. “This has been _ so _ fun!”

“Thank you, again, Duke. I don’t think we would have won if not for your help.” Patton put as much genuine emotion in his words, and he saw how it made the other man pause.

“For Dee-dee, I’d be a hero.” The words were so soft, Patton almost thought he imagined it, but when he turned to face the hero, he saw just how each word left an impact on wild man. “Now, you didn’t hear it from me, and while I totally _ love _ to be a thorn in your side, Dee-dee, V, and you, you all annoyingly remind me of a dear little brother of mine. Goody-goodies, overdramatic” both laughed at that, knowing the Duke was probably more dramatic than the three of them put together, “but…” He shook his head quickly. “If any of you are in trouble again, I’d raze this entire, pathetic world for all of you. Sure, maybe not for you at first, but you got V and Dee-dee wrapped around your finger. Particularly our little Anxiety.”

The Duke leveled him with a sharp look. “So if you’re welcome in their books, you’re my ally.” A small, manic grin creeps on his face. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop being who I am. This city would be too boring if I went goody-goody.”

Patton chuckled and nodded, a little dazed by just everything the Duke said.

“See you around, sunny boy~” He cried, before sprinting away with Deceit in his arms. They were gone around a corner before Patton could raise a hand in farewell.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Returning home was an anxious event. Patton wasn’t sure if the two had seen the news - he knew he was going to be on the news, had seen the little news lady try to get his attention for an interview, but he had politely never made eye contact and headed off - or how they would react if they had. He changed back into his civilian clothes in an alleyway a block away from the apartment complex, and slowly meandered back the rest of the way until he was standing in front of the door to his apartment.

He took a deep breath before he finally unlocked the door, and barely opened the door fully before multiple arms were wrapping around him.

“That was such a… a, a…” He heard Logan struggle to keep the anger in his voice, his words tickling his left side, while the other person was deathly silent on his right before those arms quickly retracted.

“Don’t do something stupid like that again. Stupid is my job, or Duke’s.” Virgil said quietly.

“I… I wasn’t about to let them get away with hurting my friends, Virgil. They almost killed you and Dee. You both did the same for me, it’s only right I pay you back for helping me.”

Virgil shook his head, his gaze down at the floor when Logan finally allowed Patton to step completely into the apartment and close the door behind them.

“That… Whatever.” He kept shaking his head. “Just don’t be stupid like that again, or else I’ll make sure you stay someplace you can’t hurt yourself.”

The threat was empty, or at least sounded empty and half-baked. Still, it made Patton smile softly at the vigilante.

“I’ll try not to be.” He promised.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [ LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> This author replies to comments.


End file.
